


byleth/claude s support but it's gay

by mocinno



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Spoilers for GD final boss, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 07:27:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20224075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mocinno/pseuds/mocinno
Summary: Title, essentially, except Byleth also has emotions. Not a copy paste of the female’s S.





	byleth/claude s support but it's gay

Stretching his arms above his head, Byleth climbed up the spire of the Goddess Tower. An owl hooted here and there, but otherwise, the monastery was quiet. 

Or, quiet enough. From the dining hall he could hear the clamour of people laughing and talking, still on a high of energy after the battle with Nemesis. He loved his allies, of course, but he could only stand so many hours of Hilda yammering in his ear while more food was mysteriously shoveled onto his plate. The Goddess Tower, peaceful as ever, served as the perfect escape route.

Passing by each ceiling length window, he could see the stars shining in the sky, illuminating the purple and blue night. Moonbeams cut through the gaps of the tower, lighting the steps as he walked.

At the top of the tower was an observation deck, with a small roof. The mouth of the staircase sat at its center, and Byleth emerged after a hefty walk. It was taller than he remembered. Stepping out from under the roof, he leaned against the railing of the tower.

The night reminded him of Claude and their conversation about the stars and gods. The night was beautiful.

His last visit to the Goddess Tower had been at the ball so many moons ago. That night as well, he looked above him, dreaming of greater things, hoping for greater dreams.

From his pocket he withdrew a small pouch, and from it he took a ring. Jeralt's ring. It had weighed him down for many months; it filled his heart with questions. Some were abstract-- why was Jeralt not allowed to give the ring to Byleth? Why was he forced to take it from the old office, like a petty thief? Others were easier-- who would he give it to? 

"I expected to find you here, my friend." Speak of the Devil, Claude swung around the steps with his usual twinkling expression. Byleth fumbled to shove the ring and pouch back into his cloak. "Sick of the dinner?"

"You could say that. We’ve never been ones for big events, have we?” Claude laughed and threw an arm around Byleth’s shoulder. He struggled to keep his pulse-- well, his metaphorical pulse-- even under Claude’s touch. “You ran from the ball then as well.”

“Hey, you ran too.”

“And I ended up here, same as now!” He winked at Byleth as he leaned his back against the railing, arms behind his head, without a care in the world. “But I figured you’d stay this time. Y’know, it’s our graduation party, after all.”

“‘Graduation,’ _ sure. _ You might leave Garreg Mach, but you’ll always be my students.”

“When are you going to stop calling us that, by the way? We stopped being students five years ago.”

“When you stop calling me ‘Teach.’”

“Oh, come on!” For a moment he looked genuinely offended, both hands to his heart. “I’ve been letting up on that recently.”

Byleth said nothing. He already knew of course, from the softness of “my friend” and the sarcasm that dripped with “Teach” each time it was said.

“Anyway, don’t you think they’ll be worried without their leaders?”

“What, the army? They’ll be fine. Hilda’s got my back. I’m sure she can distract a couple hundred soldiers easily.”

Byleth scoffed. Of course, Hilda had always been Claude’s free pass to get away with his schemes. She always had his back with the perfect excuse to worm out of whatever problem he caused. “You two always did get along.”

“‘Course. When Hilda tries, she’s amazing.” Claude laughed, leaning his head back so only his neck and chin were visible. “_You’ve _ always been the ace up my sleeve, though.” He tilted his head up and met Byleth’s eyes with a wink. “Five years was tough without my favorite pawn, heh.”

“Oh, don’t lie.” Claude’s smarmy look waned into a confused head tilt. “You don’t think of me as a pawn-- you don’t think of _ anyone _ like that.”

“I don’t know, my friend. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to see my ambitions through, whether it’s--”

Byleth elbowed him without malice. “I can see prewar Claude saying that, sure. _ He _ was nothing but a schemer. But you? Look at you!” He gestured to Claude from head to toe. “You’re the leader of the Alliance, soon to be leader of Fódlan. People believe in you because they know you _ don’t _ treat them like just tools. Sure,” he added, after Claude gave him a look, “you’re pragmatic, I won’t deny that. But you value your soldier’s lives as much as your own.” 

He punched Claude’s shoulder gently. “I don’t want you talking about yourself like you’re nothing but a dirty schemer. You’re better than that, Mr. Alliance Leader.”

"About that." Claude stepped closer to Byleth, turning his body to face him in full. “I’m not staying to lead Fódlan. I’m leaving for Almyra.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in.

Claude was leaving for Almyra.

Byleth’s heart sank to the floor. “Wh-what?!” His voice cracked slightly as he yelled. “Claude, what do you _ mean _ ? Who’s going to rule Fódlan in your stead? Don’t tell me it’s _ me _ \--” Claude nodded, and Byleth waved his hands in the air erratically. “Me, Claude, me!? I’m not even a follower of Seiros! I’ve never held a position of power, I can barely remember my name some days, I don’t even have a _ pulse _, half this continent’s history I don’t understand, I, I…”

“Trust me.” Claude set his hands on Byleth’s shoulders. He lowered his arms tentatively, though he was shaking under Claude’s touch. “It’s because I trust you that I know I can leave for Almyra. I know you can lead Fódlan into a new dawn, one without prejudice. Almyra needs help too, and I have… connections. I’m sure you’ll do great, my friend. You're the only person I can ask.”

Byleth continued to tremble. “Hey, hey, are you… _ crying_?” Was he? If he was, he wasn’t even aware of it. Claude’s eyebrows were knit in concern, and his voice was low and gentle. “I-it’s okay, you know. I’ll be back soon-- we won’t be apart long.” He leaned forward and embraced Byleth. “But before I go, I wanted to…”

He was fully crying then, shuttering from Claude’s touch, unable to reciprocate the hug. His brain was a mess, his thoughts scrambled. He pushed Claude away lightly and fumbled through his pocket, weeping all the while.

“Claude, I… I…!” Like a stone in water, Byleth dropped to one knee. From its pouch he pulled Jeralt’s ring, holding it up to Claude with trembling fingers. “I’d like your hand in marriage!”

A second passed, then another. Time seemed to slip away as Byleth held the ring, watching Claude’s face for a reaction, any reaction at all.

Claude’s first movement was his hands-- pulling them back, palms outward, as if he was bracing for something. Then, they moved to his mouth, and he brushed at his eyes. Still, he had said nothing, leaving Byleth on one knee and dying of suspense.

Claude’s hands moved to his own tunic, reaching for something in the folds, and Byleth was still on one knee, and _ wow _ the Goddess Tower was made of _ hard _ stone; held in his black gloves was-- was a ring?

Byleth blinked. No, he was still holding Jeralt’s ring, it hadn't been magically stolen. Claude just-- Claude had another ring. Claude had another ring?

He stumbled to his feet and rubbed his tears away.

“I didn’t think you’d beat me to it!” Claude laughed, still wiping at his eye. “I… well, it’s a yes. A resounding yes. Man!” He kept laughing. Byleth joined too, slowly, at the absurdity of the situation. “I had this really nice speech planned out, and I had Hilda help me get you up here, and you had to go and ruin it with your own proposal. It was her job to get you to want to leave, by the way, and…”

Claude trailed off as Byleth pressed their lips together. Claude stumbled back, into the railing of the tower, with a satisfied sigh.

“Goddess behead me,” Byleth fake-prayed, “I wanted to do that for so long.” He snaked an arm around Claude’s hip and held his ring with his other hand. “Now, will you accept this ring?”

He pulled off his glove and Byleth slipped the ring on. “Of course, my friend. I accept. If only,” he interrupted, making Byleth jump, “you accept my own.”

“What a condition!” Byleth declared, taking off his own glove. “I’m afraid I must accept your ring as well.” It was silver, with shiny green gems, and he knew he would think of Claude always when looking at it.

Suddenly, Claude grabbed Byleth in a hug, spinning around the tower. Eventually, his feet touched the floor, and they danced together under the moonlight. Byleth wished the moment would last forever, of Claude's head tucked into the crook of his neck, their arms wrapped around each other; for the first time, they were allowed total peace to themselves, without a war or anything else in their way. 

"You understand, though, right?" Claude spoke as they twirled, his voice softer than Byleth had ever heard. "Why I have to leave. It's because I want to see that new dawn with you. The world, without its biases and coldness. I want to make that world, and I want to stand in it with you. That's why I have to leave, so we can..."

Byleth kissed him mid-sentence, again. He had a feeling it was something he'd be doing frequently, in the coming years. Years! They had their whole lives ahead of them.

Claude separated slightly from Byleth with a gasp, his face flushed, still keeping his arms around the other man's shoulders. "We should go and tell the others. Hilda will kill me if I don't come back." He whistled into the darkness and his wyvern soared in from nowhere, beating its leathery wings and kicking up dust. "Come on. … What, you didn't plan to just _ walk _down all those stairs again, did you?”

Byleth shrugged and mounted the wyvern behind Claude. Together they flew to the dining hall, where they were greeted by an eager and knowing Hilda standing outside the doors. Within seconds of their landing, she’d thrown the door open to a cacophony of cheering and whistling from every corner of the hall. Claude swept him off his feet, bridal-style, and together they paraded through the hall, flashing their rings to the approving nods of their allies. Any who dared frown in their direction was given a swift kick and a deadly smile from Hilda.

Claude set off for Fódlan's Locket the next day, after a lazy morning in bed with Byleth. They swore to send letters as frequently as possible. In the meantime, Byleth had a country to rebuild.

**Author's Note:**

> I love ultimate wingwoman Hilda. Actually, I think I just love Hilda in general.
> 
> Also, we were robbed of blushing Claude in his S, I say, robbed!
> 
> Highkey inspired by this fanart: https://laurencin-draws.tumblr.com/post/186799280458/worth-the-wait


End file.
